En Infant Garde
by Azumizai
Summary: It was absolutely ridiculous the assumptions sometimes his family made. He was JUST babysitting! Why couldn't this have been a case where he was just ignored? Sometimes things just didn't work out...


**Genre **: Family, Humour, Adorableness  
**Rating **: T for Possible mild swearing  
**Disclaimer **: This fanfiction is set in a generalized universe. It is based off of the characters and my interpretations of them, so both anime and manga have been referenced. There might be _unintentional spoilers_. You have been warned. Also, _both country and character names used._  
**Characters** : Canada, Russia, America, England and others possibly mentioned. There are _no defined pairings_. However, if you wish to see something as a pairing, then be my guest.  
**Ownership **: Hetalia is definitely not mine. I never recalled creating it. I'm not nearly that clever.  
**Extra Disclaimer **: Read to the end and read the author's comments. I don't want to weird anyone out by accident in the first chapter! XD

ENJOY THE STRANGENESS THAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ.

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**Chapter One Summary **: Settled down with the duty of babysitting, ah… this shouldn't be so hard, right? Right? Oh… Oh why did he have a feeling this was going to be _much_ harder than he thought…?

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**Chapter 1  
They Definitely Have it All Wrong**

A silence had fallen over the conference room where there should have been the sound of many countries discussing their various issues and problems that had to do with themselves or others. 'Should have' were incredibly key words, because none of that was taking place at that exact moment. There was a thick, unsolicited, silence. It was not the sort of silence that came when someone had said something awkward, or when somebody was calling for it so they could speak; no, this silence was the type of sheer, unrefined, and pure, shock.

All of their attention had been drawn to one single point, and Canada was unaware of all the stares he was receiving; completely and utterly unaware of all the roaming eyes, unaware of the gaping mouths, stunned expressions and confused looks. He was unaware of all the attention he was suddenly receiving. More attention than the Great White North had received in quite some time.

Well, he certainly had their attention now, and he wasn't even aware of it. His own concentration was elsewhere, so he had no clue that he was cause for the sudden silence that invaded every corner of that room.

Perhaps he was unaware of all those things because he was just not used to _being_ the cause of all those things. Normally, it would have been his boisterously loud brother, spewing some sort of nonsense. Or it could have been his when his 'parents', England and France, decided it was high-time to verbally (or physically) duke it out once more. Or it could have been for any other _number_ of reasons that would be nigh impossible to list.

Oh, Canada was aware of the silence, he had noted it in the back of his head. But he wasn't exactly looking up at the moment; his attention was drawn elsewhere, so he only assumed in the recesses of his mind that it was someone _else_ that had drawn everyone's silence.

It was certainly _not_ himself, he assumed. Oh, definitely not himself.

So he chose instead to focus on what he deemed more important than the meeting at the moment and definitely more important then the chatter that started to erupt when the silence became too unbearable.

America quickly turned his head to England, a stunned expression littering his features. England could only shrug back at him, in a dumb sort of bafflement. France, sitting beside Arthur, looked like he was in-between crying and fainting, proud words were just barely managing to be held behind pursed lips.

America was the first of the three to speak, looking between England and France desperately as if they'd know the answer to the question he was about to spew. "W-what the hell!" Alfred demanded. "W-where did _that_ come from!"

His voice still managed to be quiet somehow, without loosing his shock or emphasis.

Arthur glanced at Matthew from way down the table, then back at Alfred. "I... I well..." He tried to think of a good reason. "I… er… Hmn…" He tapped his chin in a contemplating manner. "Well Matthew is an adult now… so… I suppose it's possible…"

Was it…?

"I am _so proud_," France gushed out, having nothing more to add to the conversation than that, and the cheerful tittering laugh that followed.

"I know _that_," Alfred said in response to England, "But I mean... _who_. When? Where? Why? _How?_" He swallowed then gestured sharply with his gloved hand, "I mean, the last I recalled, countries did not normally _try_ to see if they could... Do... Do... _That._"

A few other nations, catching onto what America and England had said, were craning their necks to look back at Canada, who was still looking down at the thing he held oh-so-tenderly. He had a warm smile, and a soft glow about him; still blissfully unaware of their gapes and stares.

"But it 'as not been proven that it is impossible!" France then gestured himself pointedly. "It is that we do not try, non? Oh... Oh but _Mathieu_, My beautiful little child has grown up so fast! Oh Mathieu!"

"Quit your blubbering you buffoon," England grunted, "Before you make an idiot of yourself."

France continued to 'blubber' on, switching between English and French words of praise. America was looking at his brother carefully, hand sliding across his chin, sharp-blue eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Hrmn..."

It just shouldn't be possible. Countries did not, as far as he was aware, ever try to have children in the same sense as their citizens did. Sure, some of them had colonies or little countries to take care of, but that just wasn't the same. It… it wasn't the same as having a flesh-and-blood child or parent or sibling. It was different.

So looking at Canada now, with a _baby_ in his lap; blond-haired and blue eyed, it definitely raised some questions. A lot of questions. _A lot of questions._

He watched his brother's movements with the utmost scrutiny, ignoring as England started to loudly berate France into shutting up for once. He watched the gestures and the expressions Canada made, searching for the _meaning_ he could dig out from behind them.

After a moment or more of his 'studying' his eyes widened and he wacked his hands down on the table with enough force that it effectively cut Francis and Arthur off, and drew the attention of several of the surrounding countries themselves.

"No fucking way..." Alfred started, eyes widened to a huge degree. "No fucking way."

England turned away from France. "What? What is it?" he demanded.

America ran through all the details in his head a few times more before he turned back to England, swallowing and looking extremely stunned. "Wow... I mean. Wow. I think I know what's going on here. I think... I mean, I _know_ what happened."

A short quiet fell, England and France (and the unwelcome listeners of their conversation) looked at Alfred eagerly, waiting for the suddenly-stunned man to continue this train of thought.

When no such answer came, Arthur hissed at him, "Well! Bloody out with it! You can't expect us to fill in the sodding answers!"

"A-... ah. Right," Alfred replied. His determination flared and he hunched in his chair, gesturing with his hands for Francis and England to come closer. He decided to, for the best effect; speak with a low and hushed voice, "Okay... I know what really happened."

"Well...?" England pressed.

"Shh!"

England grunted, lowering his voice to America's level. "Alright. Alright. Now go on," he gestured.

"Okay. Now, you can already see for yourself what Mattie has with him. So... we only have to figure out _why_ he has it. That's the great question of the day, isn't it?" He inquired.

He got two nods in agreement and expressions telling him to: 'hurry it on up already, you're killing us.'

"Okay. So. Think back to how Mattie's been acting lately. That's what I did. I was watching him just now, and it sorta reminded me of a few things I've noticed recently," America began.

"How he's been acting lately...?" England started. "Whatever do you mean by that? Unfortunately I can't afford paying attention to the delicate details of all my former-colonies. You're bloody enough as it is and I don't make the conscious effort of doing so," he added flatly.

He'd never admit that he had trouble altogether just remembering when Canada was in a room, let alone when he did something that was different than normal.

"Ahaha. You can't help it 'cause I'm the hero. Oh yeah," America grinned then his face fell upon looking at the pissed and eager expressions. "Ah! Okay. So. As I was saying. Matthew's been acting a bit weirdly. Like, maybe I didn't realise it before, or really care, but now that I think of it, Canada has done some strange things."

"Like...?" This was getting ridiculous. Maybe the man had nothing to say at all and he was just teasing them with pointless chatter and just wanted to _seem_ like he was on the brink of divulging them in some serious detail. It was starting to grate on the Briton's nerves.

"Okay. Like, for instance: He was gone for a few months. Like, he just came back not very long ago, and he's been gone for _ages_."

There was a pause, France and England looked each other. "... He was gone for _months_? Oh now you're bloody pulling our legs! Matthew wasn't gone for _months_."

"Nuh uh. He was. He only recently came back too. He was gone for a long time. He didn't come to any of the meetings and I was e-mailing him all the details because I'm a super-awesome bro like that. I got chat-logs and everything," he grinned.

"... Why didn't you _tell_ us he wasn't at the meetings!"

Alfred blinked. "I have to tell you? I thought it was kinda obvious. You know... him not being there an' all."

England grunted and he put his hand to his face and he waved his other one. "N... Never mind. Just go on. Finish your stupid little story so we can get on with our lives."

"... Right..." America raised his eyebrow. "... Anyway!" He slapped his hands on the wooden surface of the table again. "We were talking about Mattie. So. Him being gone for such a long time is an unusual thing, 'cause I am pretty sure that he's the kind of guy to be like, super punctual for meetings. One of the other things I've noticed, were his clothes."

"... His clothes."

"Yeah! Before he left for a long time, I don't think he was wearing a nice suit and tie like everyone else was, which is a shame 'cause he looks just like me, and I am positively _dashing _in a suit. So I know he'd look good."

This was getting far too close to the last straw and England grit out with every once of frustration he could muster, without drawing the attention of the nation they were talking about, "Alfred if you don't get on with your bloody point I am going to shoot you point blank."

France nodded, this was getting far too painful to muscle through. "Oui oui!"

"..." America shrugged. "_Anyway_. He's been wearing those really baggy clothes of his. The stuff that makes him look really tiny an' all that. He's wearing it now, even. But yeah, it was kinda noticeable before 'cause that's all he'd wear." Alfred concluded.

Francis and England glanced. Indeed Matthew _was_ wearing an over-sized sweatshirt currently. The point of this thought was escaping England. He had no idea what America was getting at.

Alfred snapped to regain their attention and he continued. "Okay. So. In addition to that, I had been to Mattie's house before he left, to, ya know, discuss the e-mailing stuff, and he was eating really fucking _weird_ stuff. Like, really weird shit. I dun' remember what it was, but it was _weird_."

"... Well it can't be much different than what _you_ like to eat."

"No no. I mean, it was _really weird_. He told me he had been craving beaver tails of all things. Like the animal? You know those demented things that eat _trees_ for a living? And he was eating this glorpy brown and white and... I think it had thick-cut freedom fries in there I dunno..."

He was getting a few odd stares, and he took another breath, adding more onto his recounting of details, "So yeah. Also, Matthew has been all happy, cheerful and _glowing_ recently; almost stupidly so. I don't mean to say he can't be happy or whatever, but it was kinda noticeable."

England paused for a few moments, and noticed that America seemed to be done with his 'story'. He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Can I speak now? Are you done?"

"Uh huh! Isn't it so obvious? Man I'm so smart sometimes."

"Is there a point to all this? You've been giving us random pieces of information that have _nothing_ to do with each other. Absolutely nothing. So can you please connect the dots of _why_ this has to do with _that_, I'll be grateful," he added, his tone slightly laced with sarcasm. "It seems I don't have the ability to think like you do."

France's expression was different from England's though, he had been mulling over what America had said, his finger tapping his chin in thought. Just when it seemed like he was reaching the same point of frustration as Arthur, his eyes flung open in shock, his mouth forming a silent 'oh' and he looked at Matthew with the single most surprised and perplexed expression he had ever mustered.

"Mon _petite_!" He said loudly, but forcing a hush so Matthew didn't hear.

"Ahahaha! See?" America cheered in triumph. "Even Ol' Frenchie's got it!"

"Got what? I don't bloody get what you are talking about. Look, I the only think I keep getting from what you're saying is a woman's pregnancy symptoms. I know that's not possible and I am certain you are not daft as that to belei-"

He stopped, looking at the stares that France and America locked on him.

"-ve... Oh for god's sake. You don't _honestly_... You..." He looked at them both, and both of whom looked completely serious. "You can't possibly be thinking _that_. Oh bloody _hell_ no."

"What? Think of it. He started wearing baggy clothes, eating and _craving_ weird shit, had (and still has) this _glow_ around him, and he disappears for several months _on end_ instead of being as diligent as he's always been? Come on England."

England couldn't believe them. Sure, if this was any other situation, or Matthew had been born a woman, maybe he'd believe it. Maybe. But the true fact was that they were _countries_ so something like this shouldn't be possible. Woman _or man_. "But Canada is a _nation_ so I don't very well think that he..."

"... And so? He's a _nation_. It's not like we've _tried_, right? Maybe it's different for us."

England had just about enough and he stood, slamming his hands on the table angrily. "It's not _bloody fucking possible_! My god, are you both complete idiots?"

He pointed a finger sharply at the nations that had been listening in. "And _you_, you are all just as stupid as they are if you're willing to get _pulled_ into such a stupid thing! My god... _Morons!"_

His cries of outrage were far louder than the harsh whispers that they had been sharing before, or the idle conversation that had already floated around the room. No, his shouts were _loud_ and grating, and startling to those who were not used to hearing them.

There was _one_ in the room that was not used to hearing such sounds, and after a brief moment of quiet played after Arthur's words, a new sound punctuated the silence with a loud and warbled cry.

Matthew jumped when the infant he had been holding so tenderly started to wail. The tiny little thing had his legs curled into him, his fists clenched tightly and he was crying for all he was worth. That big, loud and booming sound scared him and he was letting it be known.

"O... Oh!" Canada managed, giving a small panic and he pulled the little one closer to himself, settling the wailing infant against his shoulder and he rubbed his back. He hummed, "Shh... Don't cry. Shh..."

It was such an outward display of _motherly_ warmth, affection and love. He had a simple glow and tenderness about him when he cradled the child close, trying to ease the infant and his scared cries.

"Shh, there is nothing to worry about," he said ever-so-softly. "There there... I got you."

Canada had been looking away when this happened, his eyes looking softly down, but when he glanced up to hope that the crying wasn't causing any trouble, his humming and bouncing came to a halt when he realised he had the attention of _every single nation in the room_. His violet eyes widened and he looked between everyone, absolutely stunned.

Matthew slowly started to stand, pushing back the chair. He bowed his head. "I am so sorry," he quickly apologized. "I'll take him out of the room right now. I apologize."

England was watching Canada with a dumbfounded expression. He looked at America sharply then back at Canada who was quickly departing the room, carefully and tenderly holding the swaddled infant like it was his very own.

Alfred just grinned and had the expression of someone who thought they dearly deserved to give themselves a high-five.

"No..." Arthur said after the door shut. "... No that's not possible..."

"You don't sound as doubtful as you did before there Artie."

England fully ignored the nickname and he gaped. Oh no. No, this was not possible. Matthew was his _son_ damnit. Country or not he was his _son_, and there was no way in hell that something like this could even happen! And even so, he should have been the first to know about it! Nothing like this just _happened_ out of the blue! He would have known before hand!

Arthur plopped himself down in his chair, half wilting. Oh bloody hell...

He didn't know what to think.

America smirked to himself, feeling triumphant and good about his conclusion. Countries that had heard the assumption had already passed it on, and chatter flared up on _how_ something like that could even be possible...

France had his elbows on the table, his hands fitted through his golden locks and he was muttering _something_ in French. England couldn't say what exactly the Frenchman was saying, but clearly he seemed distressed with this newfound 'knowledge'. Clearly the idea was equally disturbing to the man. Though maybe for different reasons than his own; really, it was so hard to tell with Francis.

America pumped a fist then slapped England on the back. "Ahahaha! I told you! I told you! I'm totally right!"

England glowered, massaging his temple with a growl. "Alfred. I still refuse to believe it. But might I ask something of you...?"

"Yep," America responded cheerfully.

"If this is the truth, and that this has happened, which you no doubt now believe with the full extent of your strangely-wired mind..."

"Yep!"

"They _pray_, why are you so _bloody happy_ about it? You do understand that it takes _two_ to make a child in _that_ manner, am I correct? If you're assuming that Matthew... gave.... Ah... um," he paused, "_Had_ a child, then who, pray tell, is the _father_?"

America had been listening cheerfully and he froze as if he was struck by lightning.

"There. See?"

Alfred once again stood up sharply and he slammed his hands down on the table's surface, eyes wide with horror. "Oh god who did this to Mattie!"

Arthur wanted to groan and put his head in his hands.

Alfred's face twisted to that of rage and he growled, hands turning to fists and he looked at _every_ nation in the room aside from his family members (though, all things considering, France was every bit a valuable target as anyone else). "If any of you in this room did that to him I am going to do _terrible things_," he snarled, his voice lowering to a tone that Russia would have been proud to hear if he had been in the room at the time.

A few of them shrunk back, several looked indifferent, and a few put up their hands wildly in a surrender that no, no they did _not_. They didn't even know that Canada existed until just a few minutes ago. How could they have _possibly_ done that in such a short period of time? Or without even knowing!

America looked away from them and then to the door. "I'm going to go talk to him right now and get to the bottom of this."

"Good! And then you'll see you're wr-"

France tugged Alfred back. "Non! You must not approach Mathieu with this! You must leave 'im be for now!"

"Huh? Why!" Alfred demanded sharply, yanking his arm out of France's grasp.

"Because! Clearly mon mignon has decided to not tell us for a reason! Per'aps there is something wrong and 'e does not wish to tell us yet! If we approach 'im now, it might stress 'im, non?"

"Oh for all the love of the..." England groaned. "Look! You both are _idiots_. How can you believe that this is possible?"

"Shh! L'Angleterre you know nothing of what you speak. This is very important, non? I 'ave seen many mothers in my day, and it is 'ard not to when you are a country, non? And Mathieu is displaying as a mother would. And if l'Amerique is correct at his observations, then there is all the more proof!"

"But that doesn't _prove_ anything! You're making bloody wild guesses in the dark! You can't just come to that conclusion so _quickly_, you don't even have _proof_. You might as well be wildly firing a gun in the air and assume you hit something just because you heard a 'bang'. It just doesn't make _sense_."

"Dude," America said shortly, "England. The baby itself is totally proof right there. He was kinda holding it. And what, he looked only a couple months old? That sorta fits in with the whole 'disappearing for a few months' thing."

France nodded. "Because 'e could leave so he did not... ah... _show_ and then 'ad the child elsewhere, non? Then come back?"

America nodded, but grimaced at that idea. He continued, "And he was blonde from what I could see. And you also saw the way he was fawning over it!"

"It's an infant! Wouldn't you fawn over it as well? I know I certainly would."

"Not like _that_. An' that's 'cause you're you."

"Bloody hell. This is clearly preposterous -"

"Nope! That is the reason, and that's final!" America cut him off, smacking his hand on the table surface once more. "I will prove it to you! And at the same time as I find out who did this to him! But for now there will be no more arguments on this. I'm the hero, I know what I saw, and that's what I saw. It's very clear and obvious to me now. Yep. No denying it."

England slumped. There was just no winning this, was there?

. . .

Canada bounced the crying infant on his shoulder carefully, rubbing the small back with one of his hands. He sighed but he hummed a soft tune that had no real pattern other than the purpose to be soothing to the crying child.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have brought him. He was told that the child didn't cry very much, and he only did so when he was very uncomfortable or scared, so he thought that maybe nobody would have noticed if he had him with him at the meeting. It wasn't like people noticed him in the first place, what difference would a child make?

"Shh... Shh... There there... Please don't cry."

Slowly, the baby's cries started to quell into little hiccoughs when he felt the swelling warmth and comfort of his own country settle down upon him. Soon enough, his crying stopped altogether, to be replaced with little uncomfortable and uncertain sounds in his throat.

Matthew chuckled warmly and held the baby close. "There we go. That's much better, eh? Don't worry, they are big and scary countries, but I assure you that they won't do you any harm at all. They just get a little rowdy."

He stopped his bouncing and readjusted him so he was curled up in his arms.

"The one you heard, that scared you, was my father. That's England. See? You're already getting a head start on your geography and history." Canada said, just talking to the baby because he knew that was comforting enough. "He's a really nice person; though, he just can get _loud_ sometimes."

The infant looked up at him, listening intently, though he may not have understood a word of it, he liked the sound of Matthew's voice.

So Canada obliged him and continued. "There were two people sitting beside him. One was my brother. We're basically twins, eh? We look nearly identical. But his hair is different than mine had he's way more muscular than I am. And the other man is my papa." He gave a tiny laugh. "Ah... That must be confusing. But countries work different than people and we aren't 'born' like you are and they aren't really my 'parents' in that sense. I didn't come from either one of them like that..."

He paused. "Ah, this isn't something I should talk about; because, frankly, it confuses me too." He chuckled.

He was still getting such an intent and interested look. "... You know I'm not used to having such undivided attention. You're a very good listener." He smiled down at the child who understood what a smile was and gave a tiny one back. The movements of the smile were awkward and still in a basic form of mimicry, but Canada still melted when his smile was returned.

"Gah! You're so adorable! Your parents are so lucky!"

"Matthew?" Came a soft accented voice from behind him in the hall.

Canada stopped his 'conversation' and turned. "Ah... England. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for him to disrupt the meeting and, I know I should've thought better than to bring him here I had wrongly assumed it'd be no trouble and -"

England put up his hand. "No no. It's quite alright. I just wanted to be sure that the little one was alright. Poor thing."

Matthew moved to speak, but he saw two figures hiding around the hallway corner, then disappear as soon as they noticed that Canada was looking in their direction.

"... What are Papa and Alfred doing?"

"Believe me. I have no bloody clue," Arthur said flatly. He had been told viciously by America not to reveal his 'mission' to discretely find out 'who had done this to Canada'. This also meant he wasn't allowed to ask any direct questions in fear that he might 'emotionally upset' Matthew. Of all the moronic things… He only decided to humour them because he didn't want to hear their insistent _whining_ later.

Canada sighed and England leaned, looking down at the little one cradled in Matthew's protective grasp.

"My my, he certainly adorable, isn't he?"

"Isn't he though? I don't think I've seen a cuter baby in a long time. Though I might be a little biased in that opinion."

The baby squirmed, blinking and squinting out at Arthur, trying to make out this new figure.

"Oh! Right. Let me introduce you two. Nikolas, this is England." Matthew said warmly and he held the little one a little higher. "This is my father, like I told you."

England flushed a little at Canada's easy description of being called his father and he shuffled. After a moment, Arthur held out his arms. "May I?"

Canada chuckled. "He's hard to resist, isn't he?" He carefully held him out, supporting the head and delicately transferring him to England. He completely trusted him, so it was no issue that Arthur wanted to hold the infant. He knew he'd be safe.

England brought the tiny thing close and he looked down at the little blond-haired and blue-eyed wonder. "Oh my, you are rather handsome, aren't you?"

Canada glanced while Arthur marvelled over the tiny being and he saw the distinctive flip of Nantucket from around the corner and the shadows of two people. Just what were they _doing_? Were France and America afraid of babies or something? Why were they hiding?

He sighed, and had the distinct feeling that he'd be better off just not knowing.

"A... ah... Matthew..." England suddenly said, drawing Canada's attention.

"Yes?"

Arthur didn't know what to do with himself and he said, gesturing the best he could, and with some distress. "He's um... trying to eat me."

"Eh...?" Canada then gave a light laugh once he noticed what was happening.

The infant decided that he was hungry now, and he managed to find a fold of England's shirt with his mouth and was trying to suck on it. This action had instantly startled the man holding him, and was doing an extremely good job at flustering the poor man. Gah! Stop that! He wasn't a _woman_.

"Oh... oh no no no. That isn't food," Matthew reached and detached the baby from the now-distressed England. "My father has nothing for you. And that's not a very good thing to eat, his shirt isn't edible."

"My goodness…"

Canada laughed. "Be happy he didn't try to find a breast. It was just the hem of your shirt."

England just grunted.

The infant gave a discomforted sound upon being removed and gave a whine, curling up. Canada nestled him in the crook of his arm, and knowing his hand was clean, let the infant suck on his pinkie finger to satisfy him for a few moments. Seeing as his soother and bottles and other baby things were in the back that he left behind…

"Ah, I left his bag in the conference room. Could you...?"

"...Get it for you?" England replied quickly, looking up from examining the dark damp spot on his shirt. "Of course. I can certainly do that."

There wasn't much said beyond that, and England turned and walked off, fishing out a handkerchief from his sleeve and was dabbing furiously at the wet-spot on his shirt in attempt to dull it.

Canada moved back and forth a little and looked down at the child who sucked greedily on his finger, happy that it was good enough for him at the moment. He glanced at the corner to see that America and France had removed themselves from it, and they were coming up fast approaching him.

Matthew murmured. "I guess I'll introduce you to the rest of my family."

America waved and he approached Matthew with that big goofy and down-right American grin of his. He clapped Canada on the back. "Oi! Mattie! What 'chu got there?" He leaned; acting like the baby's presence was completely new to him. "Oh! How ya doin' little guy!"

Alfred reached out to the infant, who was still sucking on Canada's finger, and the child found a firm grip on America's finger when it was put out for him.

"Oh! Ahahaha. Hehe. Cute." He grinned.

"Isn't he?" Canada smiled.

America smiled. "Oh yeah. Totally. The cutest. I love his blond hair, and rawkin' blue eyes! Oh yeah! Take that. He has blue eyes. The best," Alfred said cheerily, teeth showing.

"Uh huh…"

A long and almost awkward silence played between them for some number of minutes. Alfred looked like he had something to say. It looked like something was itching just at the back of his throat, just _waiting_ to be blurted out in any minute. If he was many any attempts to hide his thoughts, he was doing a poor job. Canada could clearly see that Alfred wanted to _say_ something.

Then, out of the blue, he blurted quickly and loudly, "Who's the father?" It was a wonder that Canada even understood.

Canada tilted his head. That was certainly a very odd and random question to be asking. Why would Alfred be interested in who his father was? Well maybe… Well, he _did_ just blurt it out, so probably he found the situation awkward and was trying to break the silence idle conversation.

France face-palmed in the background. Whatever happened to trying to be discreet!

"His father?" Matthew finally said, gesturing to the infant.

"His? It's a boy? Awesome!" America inwardly cheered. Yes! He was an uncle to a boy! He had a nephew! Oh, he could already think of all the awesomely heroic things he could impart on the little guy. "And yeah... his dad. Who's his dad?"

Matthew almost responded with the full answer, then decided that it was somewhat private information and Alfred had no real need to know exactly who the parents were. He wasn't sure the man would appreciate being singled out to an entire _nation_. It wasn't really any of America's business. Idle conversation or not.

So, he decided to do the next best thing:

"Well, I can tell you his father is from Russia," he offered, apologetic that he didn't reveal a name.

One could hear a pin drop in the stifling silence that followed that statement. The hallway seemed to have all sound sucked from it and the silence rung in Matthew's ears like an infection.

In that very moment, when sound seemed to have committed suicide, France had gone deathly white, and looked like he suddenly wanted to die himself right then and there. Perhaps he'd follow the sound to its grave.

America jerked back, looking extremely white himself.

Canada looked between them quickly, bouncing the child in his arms.

"... What? What did I say?"

There was just silence.

Pure. Bloody. _Silence_.

"R... R.... _Russia!"_ Alfred cried out loudly in an angered outrage, his voice easily carrying down the hallway and through the ajar conference room door.

No doubt, just seconds later, the infant erupted in a loud wail.

"A-… Alfred!"

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**Author's Notes** :

Yo. This is my second Hetalia fanfiction. My first one, "Feverish" is still in progress, and I had the idea for this one while I was writing the other. This one won't be as high priority as "Feverish", at least until I finish it. And I suspect this one will be shorter too.

This is an incredibly strange fanfiction. I really enjoyed writing this. XDDD

THERE ARE NO OC'S IN THIS FANFICTION. That infant? He is a personified plot device. He's just there to act as an object to create plot or for the characters to react to. He's not a true character. He only has a name because it's required in Canada to name your baby. At least… I think so… Hrm... Is it?

Also, The food America was talking about were Beaver Tails, a Canadian pastry, and Poutine, a popular Canadian fast food dish. Certainly normal Canadian food, expecially on the east-coast. (I've actually never tried Beaver Tails)

And in case any of you got wrapped up with America's assumption... No. No Matthew did NOT have a baby. XD Though I highly doubt I gotta tell you guys that.

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**Chapter Two Preview**: This is just… So… Ugh. Soon Russia was to be involved though. Oh this was going to turn out JUST LOVELY. Wasn't it? Ugh. No. No it wasn't.

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Thanks for reading. I'd REALLY appreciate some reviews on this so I know I'm not the only crazy person here.


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